


V, W, X, Why? Z.

by chuunihans (stormilys)



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Alphabet, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, F/M, Feel-good, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9871856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormilys/pseuds/chuunihans
Summary: Karmanami alphabet drabbles; Lecture—"Because being trained assassins and having classes in a remote mountain is normal. Meanwhile, the sky is blue."(Sporadic updates!)





	1. Ambition

* * *

"What do you want to be in ten years?"

It's déjà vu, finding herself inside a laboratory again with a sun-setting backdrop in a classroom where she belonged the most. Karma is the most familiar of all, tossing that bottle of sulfuric acid up and down and up—Manami looked up. At him, through him; thinking, knowing.

They would be 28. Manami knows what she wants to be because it's what she's been doing her whole life the one thing Manami sees with perfect clarity, despite all odds and challenges and class 3-E had been three years ago, it's her graduation tomorrow, and he's still here with her for every step of the way.

Belonged.

Karma, in _her_ school, in the _laboratory_ , is hardly a strange sight. It stopped being one when it was unanimously established that _Okuda belongs to Kunugigaoka-san_.

_What do you want to be in ten years?_

Manami never said there was no _possibility_. In the laboratory with Karma, Manami is ambitious and he is reckless by playing around with that bottle of acid—it stops when Manami touches his hand, with his eyes blinking and her voice clear, she says: "I want to be Karma-kun's."


	2. Bulletproof

* * *

His way with words is cunning, biting, with layer upon layer of meaning. Wordplay is a fun game. It didn't have to be his own words to be fun—people around him prattled and chattered with careless words that make it easy for him to deconstruct to mean something else.

Words were equally as deadly as knives. Karma's tongue is quite sharp even if he didn't want it to be.

Then comes Okuda-san, guileless and socially stunted Okuda-san. She takes words at face value, wades no further from the shallow surface of his words. Being subtle with her gets them nowhere, and more often than not, Karma grits his teeth behind forced smiles when he's forced to put clarity in his words that almost feels as if he's pulling the trigger on himself when he understands just how thoughtlessly hurtful the bullet of words were and then saying _Just kidding_ like it would help.

It doesn't.

But even then, Okuda-san still doesn't get the steel behind the syllables. What she understands is the context, but not the nature. She looks at him with eyes that twinkle when she comprehends, and Karma always wonders how long she'd be bulletproof, or if she was even aware that she was being one.

Regardless, it would be sooner than later that Karma would learn being as straightforward as Okuda-san has its merits when he begins to realize he wanted to be the only one she could be as straightforward with and no one else.

She wouldn't be dense if he confessed _directly_.


	3. Carefully Careless

* * *

Manami knew she had been careful. She'd avoided getting eliminated at the first shot, and Manami would have liked to say she was off to a good start; she wasn't particularly helpless either. The lens she'd developed for the Save faction was more than enough help for them.

But.

 _Hapless_. She decided that was it. She was hapless. With one of the Kill team's traps being witness, it told her she wasn't careful enough. She may have avoided getting eliminated right away, but she fell victim to a simple trap. So here she was, God knows how deep in enemy territory, hanging from a tree, no more than a few paintballs left and no teammate in sight. And her trapped foot felt funny; sore. Had she sprained it on her way up? Manami couldn't believe her luck. It was downright rotten.

She stiffened when she heard the leaves rustle not far from…  _Above!?_  Fumbling as her glasses slipped down, Manami flailed and tried to peer at the disturbance as best as she could. The tree was large and shadowy, but the tiniest rays of sunshine passed through dancing leaves, and for a split second, flashed the color of gold beneath shadows.

Not a moment later, the figure jumped, and Manami's skyrocketing heartbeat matched the figure's descent and continued as they landed in front of her, all topsy-turvy. Manami tried to shrink, but it was a little hard when you're dangling upside-down some feet away from the ground. It was a little embarrassing.

Beneath his hood, Itona stared at her with inquisitive interest. "Someone actually got caught in it."

"W-What do you mean?" It was getting hard to breathe with all the blood rushing to her head.

"I was just playing around with it a few hours ago. It's not a real trap." He flashed her a barely-there smirk. "Okuda is unfortunate to be caught, though."

Oh, gods. Even the inscrutable Itona was amused at her misfortune. Manami tried to move, but the sting of her caught ankle made her stop immediately. Closing her eyes in agony, she doesn't notice Itona look up at the boughs until he spoke.

"I should kill her."

"Nah, maybe we should let the other Save members find her like this. Like a warning, y'know?"

Oh, gods.  _There's someone else, too?_  She looked at Itona with clear dismay, but he wasn't looking at her anymore. There was a brush of wind, then another hooded figure landed next to him—taller. Grinning. Manami couldn't believe how rotten her luck was as Karma pushed back his hood, crimson tresses stark against green. Her injured ankle started to throb again.

"B-Before you do that," Manami flailed, red in the face, before Karma could even speak. "Please, I—my ankle is k-kind of…"

"You're hurt?" She was front seat witness to how fast Karma's expression darkened. His bright stare was sharp as they swerved from her to the blinking Itona. "Cut the rope. Did you know she was hurt and you let her take the trap?"

"I didn't know." Itona flung the knife at the rope, and Manami braced herself as Karma caught her, clicking his tongue as he stared at her in annoyance, and, if she looked closely, concern. "Maybe she's lying."

"Okuda can't lie to save her life." Karma shot back, and Itona just shrugged. Karma looked back at her, one hand supporting her back as she hurried to untie the knot, then the laces of her boot next. Taking it off was the worst, and Karma allowed her to anchor onto him as it slid off. Then she rolled up the pant leg, confirming her suspicions. Karma hissed under his breath when he saw it, and she couldn't blame him; her ankle was sporting a violent purple bruise. "What the  _hell_."

"I may have… sprained it a little," she laughed nervously, even as Karma scoffed, reaching into her pocket for the handkerchief she was glad she brought.

Karma took the navy handkerchief from her and moved in front of her, ignoring her protests, saying, "Let me do it," and then he shot a look at Itona. "Make sure no one comes through here."

"Eliminate?"

"Duh, obviously." With that, Itona jumped back up to the trees, and Manami followed until she couldn't see him through the shadows. Karma cleared his throat, and Manami looked back. He gave her a tight smile. "Hardcore, Okuda-san. Hanging on a sprained foot… And you call this a little?  _Tsk_."

She noticed how he wrapped her ankle with utmost care, the quick dexterity of his hands, to making sure he didn't jostle her foot as much as he could. Manami suppressed a smile at the irony of their situation, a ball of sadness mixing with the class conflict brewing in her chest as he finished tying the knot.

"I guess you're out," Karma sighed, turning his back to her. "Climb on. Korosensei will lose his shit since you got hurt, y'know?"

Korosensei. This class civil war, to save or to kill. She wanted to save Korosensei, and now, the Kill commander had just  _offered his back_  to her. Behind her vest, the hidden gun suddenly felt like lead as alarm bells rung inside her head.  _Should I try?_  The very thought of taking Karma on rendered her in cold sweat as she moved; her body was already moving, but her mind was in full stop.  _Ridiculous, stupid Manami,_  she shut her eyes as she felt her hand close around the handle, taking surreptitious care not to make any other sounds as she drew the gun out.

She knew why he disagreed with Nagisa. Manami understood. But she also wanted Korosensei alive.

Manami ignored the bitter taste of her betrayal, and then, her hands quivered as they poised to shoot, and then—and then something hit her shoulder. A shot of a quick, red-colored splat, like blood, splattering on her cheek as well. Manami dropped her weapon in surprise.

Karma whirled around to face her, eyebrows raised, and they found her discarded gun. Something sparkled behind him; the shine of a scope. Sniper.  _Maybe Hayami-san?_

Karma whistled. "Aha, so it's a gun. I thought you would've stabbed me in the back instead."

She allowed him that jab, smiling ruefully as she wiped off the paint on her cheek, then offered her hand to him. For a moment, Karma studied her and she kept her eyes on him, allowing him to find what he was searching for, his stance defensive. When another splat resounded and a yelp followed not far from they were, Karma smirked at her and held her hand to a firm handshake.  _I forgive you_ went unsaid, but Manami knows it by the way his stance relaxes, how the figurative knife to her throat is drawn away.

Karma only reenters the fray when Karasuma-sensei comes to collect her.


	4. Daybreak

* * *

She finds him sitting at the bottom of the stone steps that lead up to their mountain. He hasn't seen her but he knows it is her from her footfalls and the characteristic smell of smoke and sweetness that the pre-dawn breeze carried away from her to him, separate from the scents of earth and woodland.

"...Karma-kun?" There is disbelief and wonder in that tone, and his tired eyes open and look up—she's closer than he thought, and through his surprise he gives her a two-fingered salute as his mouth twitches to his best, non-drowsy smile.

"Yo, long time no see."

They were the only ones missing from the gathering at the top of the mountain where the others already were. He knew because Maehara and Nakamura were spamming his phone since three hours ago and the last time he checked, their messages combined were at two hundred and twenty-three. He stopped reading at Maehara's second message because the screen light made his eyes water, and he'd barely even gotten any sleep as it is. He'd underestimated yesterday's load and had to work overtime until it was well into the morning. He's even in yesterday's clothes with nothing but a fresh swipe of pomade through his hair. He could have not gone today to rest, but he hadn't wanted to ditch this year's reunion—and with good reason.

 _She's lovely_ , Karma thinks, as a welling wamth of familiarity making his smile soft surfaced up his chest, taking Okuda in. He hasn't seen her for years, their only point of contact impersonal e-mails and sporadic phone calls, but time has done her well—though he doesn't know what to think of the small pinch he feels as he looks at her hair, brushing her neck and not one strand bound in braids. An old friend and a stranger all the same.

She shifts from foot to foot, the delight she would have had at seeing him gone with the world-weary slump of his shoulders and replaced with concern. She hadn't noticed his gaze. "...You know, there is nothing wrong with working hard, but I wonder if perhaps Karma-kun has forgotten to rest sometimes."

Karma grins and looks away. "Sometimes I wonder, too." He pats the space next to him; a wordless request she immediately takes to, and she sits so closely that their knees bump and their shoulders brush.

"Why are you down here?"

"In a nutshell, I took one look at the stairs and noped."

"You're so tired you couldn't climb up... you shouldn't have come today!" Though her voice is soft, her reprimand is loud and firm. It touched him how she never forgot to care despite having not seen each other for years. _That's Okuda-san for you_ , he thinks, closing his eyes and listening to her voice but not quite understanding. If there was anything he missed, it was that he could let himself unravel in Okuda's quiet companionship and never worry about having to constantly watch his own back. The world is loud and fast; their assassination classroom had been unruly as it had been merry—but there is more fun in the tranquility, and he found it in the after hours with her company poring over books and her chemical expertise until the sun went down.

"That wouldn't do," he clicked his tongue softly, sending her a wry look. "We haven't been complete for a long time. I'd rather not be that guy, Okuda-san."

Her laugh tickled his chest. He leaned back, elbows resting on the steps behind him as he closed his eyes, relishing the rush of warmth her smile brought again. It made a striking contrast against the cool morning breeze that roused goosebumps along his arms. "Ah, that's true... but we should probably come up now, yes? Akari-chan has been messaging me non-stop!"

"You too, huh? I guess we're partners for life after all. We're both late."

"We won't be if we get going." She made a move to stand, but Karma remained where he sat, unmoving, still waters. "Karma-kun?"

Without looking at her or opening his eyes, he asks, "Why watch the sun rise?"

"Hmm?"

"I've been thinking," Karma whispers, something almost like wistfulness and reverence in every word. "Seeing the sun up here as it rises during dawn, as it goes down during sunset. We were kept here for the purpose of invisibility, that we didn't exist, but they don't understand it's got the best view of everything."

And it did. They could see almost the entirety of the campus grounds, the distant patches of greenery and the sparkle of the city. Class 3-E had been at the bottom rungs but they could see everything at the highest grounds.

"And it's like feeling that octopus is here whenever the sun comes up, like he's saying hello. And when the sun is setting it feels like a goodbye... and we can be at the highest place right now but we'll still never quite reach the sun. But it's warm." He laughs, head bowed and face hidden from her. "The sun's rays, during the day... or as it sets. It's always warm."

He feels her hand brush his arm, and his hand comes to drift lazily toward it, holding it captive. Tightly, then gently, as his grip relaxed and accepted her quiet companionship.

Her grip tightens. "If we touched the sun, we'd burn. Sometimes… I think some things should remain unreachable, because those things would only hurt. And if we do reach out and get hurt, it's a lesson, and it's a lesson we'll always have to remember—so that we don't do it again."

He looked at her and thought, for a fleeting moment, that she is so close now—he has her hand, but has he reached her? Will she hurt? A lesson in the making if he tried now despite the years gone by? Okuda is not the sun but it's unbearably warm where she twists their hands so it's his that she's holding as she tugs him up.

"Come on, Karma-kun." She smiles as he rubbed his eyes, a little more alert now. "Let's go say hello."

He follows her at first light.


	5. End Time

* * *

Solitude seemed like a goldmine after stepping on nothing but landmines today. Raw-eyed and chest tight, he felt like needing it for at least 5 minutes. 5 minutes, and he'd rejoin the rest. Karma clenches and unclenches his fist, face giving nothing away despite the anxiety festering in his gut that tells him he couldn't be too far away from them too soon.

He catches movement at the corner of his eye, the far right—to the laboratory. He knew only one person who'd venture in there.

Yes, the laboratory. The laboratory would be good. Okuda wouldn't mind him; he only needed 5 minutes of peace. So Karma follows after her, slides the door shut behind him and remains expressionless when she turns, startled. Normally he would've smiled. He didn't feel like smiling, and he always meant it when he smiled.

"Oh... Karma-kun?"

"Okuda-san," he breathes, striding towards a desk and collapsing on a stool. Karma inhales and exhales, each deeply and conveying bone-deep weariness. She stood near a display of tubes, and in her hands, a flask full of curious, darkly-colored pills that looked like candy. "Why are you here?"

Okuda gestures to the flask somewhat awkwardly. Her eyes were red. "Um, I know it's already late but… but I thought I should give everyone this anyway." She cleared her throat, turning the flask over and over in her hands. "Energy pills."

"Kinda like that experimental German D-IX?"

"Not really… Um, Korosensei asked me to make this," he pretended not to hear how her voice cracked. "For… for when it's all over. He said we would be tired, and… and he wanted us to be at least comfortable and well the day after. We'd all be feeling sore, he said."

Even in death he took care of them, looked out for them. Will his guidance ever really disappear? The thought stung. His breathing shook as he inhaled, lowering his head to the desk.

"W-Would you like one now?"

"Nah," Karma sniffed. "I think I'd like to be in pain for 5 minutes."

Okuda made a confused noise. "5 minutes? Then… you'll have one?"

"Then I'll have one."

The silence stretched and Okuda said nothing else, though he heard her breathing. He heard the ruffle and shuffle of her movements, of her clothes, the clinking of the pills inside the flask. She was still standing, and if she wasn't still she was pacing around the room. It only made him far more unsettled.

"Oi, come here. Sit with me." She went, no questions asked, and sat. She seemed less tense. Just tired, and as drained as he felt. Beside her, Karma turned his head from the cushion of his arms, studying her. "Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?"

Okuda pursed her mouth, something fragile in her sad stare. "I think your reason is the same as mine."

"Not going to herd me back to the classroom with the others?"

"Make it—" her voice cracked again, and she joined him on the table, face hidden on her arms. "Make it 10 minutes?"

Karma pauses, then hums in agreement. He had no energy left, but, at least he didn't feel any more tears—he didn't remember crying like that in such a long time. Just tired. Karma relished the exhaustion in his bones and the burn in his muscles and the dulling alertness of his brain. That should have been worrying. But it's not. It felt… good, being unguaded. There were no monsters here anymore, just a couple of sad kids.

He stared at the side profile of Okuda's face for seven minutes, wondered if her eyes were wet again. He pokes her cheek, curiously, and then pressed softly with his thumb, more cautious than gentle, until she looked at him, too. Dazed, dark eyes blinked back at him.

"Your glasses," he mumbled. "Can't imagine it'd be comfortable lying down with them."

"No," she timidly whispers back. "It's not. But does it matter?"

"It does."

Okuda sniffs, and she shivers, once. "Okay." And then she sighs, sits up and unstoppers the flask to shake out two pills. She offers one to him, and he follows her suit, straightening up and they both down it. It tasted horrible, and he stuck his tongue out in distaste when it dissolved.

"It hasn't even been 10 minutes yet, Okuda-san."

Her smile is tremulous. "You've been counting?" Of course he was. Time was important to him, but she didn't need to know that he'd spent seven stolen minutes simply looking at her, watching her have her own stretch of peace and quiet and finding his in watching her have hers. For now, it was time to rejoin the others.


	6. Forthright

* * *

"Oh, um, thank you, Jirou-san... but I'm not looking for a relationship right now, but we could be friends instead?"

From the look on his face, Karma could tell the latest fish wasn't buying any of it, and that Karma thought he was an idiot, because anybody who liked Okuda as much as he proclaimed he did would know how true her words ring. She was big on that letting-down-gently thing, but she was blunt with her point. Karma isn't willing to admit he liked watching her turn down every single one, but he was more annoyed that it always seemed to happen when he was around her.

Mostly, because people like  _Jirou-san_  would show up.  _He's one of those dumber ones_ , not academically—not if he's in Sakuba University, he couldn't be. The dumber ones; who couldn't just let themselves fall with grace, who couldn't just let go without a fight even if there wasn't anything worth fighting for anymore. It stopped being admirable after the third guy; now it was just  _pitiful_.

"Friends." He repeated with this sort-of detached mimicry, eyes on her one second, then to Karma, then back again. Karma knows what he's thinking, and what was going to come next.

Okuda smiles apologetically, shoulders shrugging as she hefted books closer to her chest. "Yes, friends."

Her smile fell when he jabbed a shaking finger at her, expression angry and embarrassed.  _The look of an admirer scorned_. "Friends?  _Ha!_  You say you're not looking, but how come you're always together!?" The finger pointed then to Karma, who just sighed and scowled at the offending appendage. "And he doesn't even go here!"

Her eyes glance at him with that familiar, bone-deep weariness that he could always read as a request for help.

"We're  _together_ ," Karma drawled, speaking up for the first time since the entire spectacle, "because we're  _good friends_ and for all intents and purposes I could even be her  _best_  friend. Now, who did you say you were again?"

Karma especially enjoyed the way Admirer the Fourth quailed and seethed at the same time, muttering something about homework before hastily bidding only Okuda goodbye. Karma entertained thoughts of making a passing remark about manners and courtesy until she stood by him, and Karma only realized how stiffly he held himself until he'd softened with her proximity. It disappears completely when she took his arm, fingers curling into his elbow as they start walking again.

And then she's sighing. "Thank you, Karma-kun... but I wonder if they'll ever stop doing it when I'm with somebody! It's embarrassing..."

"I don't think they will," he hums, chortling at the playful kick she directed to his ankle; he didn't mind, as long as it pulled a smile from her frowning mouth. "Telling them to fuck off  _nicely_  doesn't help, and this the fourth guy, you know."

"Um, I guess so..." Karma looked at her, curious why she got that tone; it only ever surfaced when she had an idea she wasn't quite sure of.

"Got a plan?"

Her hand squeezed his arm. "Um, yes. But it's dumb." A nervous giggle slipped past her lips. "Very dumb. And... silly."

"I  _love_  dumb ideas." She looked doubtfully up at him, and he meaningfully returned the look. "I want in."

.

Pretend. Relationship.  _Together_.

It's not a dumb idea, but it was  _surprising_  and completely not what he'd expect from her. Surprising, but not dumb; not at all.

Not when she's no longer bothered by persistent guys like  _Jirou-san_. Not when he could hold her hand while lingering eyes watched.

But when he could get away with a kiss on her cheek, and though she'd blush and swat his arm she always stared at him when she thought he couldn't see and it's almost proprietary, the way her hand settled into the crook of his elbow when it's his turn to be approached, sometimes he doesn't quite feel that it's pretend and he'd wonder if they'd been together all this time and he's realizing just now.

But then he'd shake his head and sigh. That was just  _sly_ , and Okuda is anything but.

...Isn't she?


	7. Guinea Pig

* * *

_"You can have me."_

Maybe it was his mouth that went off without thinking.

She had been frustrated, irritable even. She'd made something new, she said, and she's wanted to try how it affected other people. It was fascinating to see this Manami, who frowned and scowled and paced and had ruffles and wrinkles on her coat. He wanted to keep it to himself. So she'd said she often used herself as the primary test subject, but it had its backlashes; full effects dwindled, and there weren't any results to see if what she'd made would work perfectly. He could feel his head spin as he watched her run a hole into the already wizened floors, white lab coat billowing—but so does her skirt. Karma averts his eyes and pretends he didn't just compare how the flashing skin were as pale as the papers scattered about.

_"I don't mind."_

Maybe he meant it.

.

Today she has him held down and Karma knows he's gone too far off the cliff when he's allowed himself to be used like this.

"Okuda-san," he murmurs, resisting against the bonds out of curiosity. "You sure I can't get out of these?"

He'd never been in a situation like this before. Willingly. He'd volunteered to do it, and the cool metal that bit firm against his skin reminded him of this. And oh, it was funny; he, Karma, a willing test subject.

Somewhere behind the chair he's strapped to, he senses her nearing, hears the shuffling of her lab coat.

"You can't," she affirmed, sounding far too close than he'd thought and Karma swallowed his surprise, body stiffening out of instinct. He tried to crane his neck around to see where she was, but eventually having no need to as she reappeared to his right anyway. Her finger fiddled with the metal band, nail dragging along his skin as she traced the outline and Karma couldn't tear his eyes off of it, even if she didn't look like she was aware of touching his skin. "Karma-kun is strong… but legal contracts with your signature are stronger, yes?"

She's right. He'd always answered every one of his problems with his fists but he couldn't fight words with swords. So, he might be able to escape his bonds, but he will do so at the expense of violating the contract he'd signed.

Which wouldn't do. He was too proud to back out and disappointing her was not something on his list.

"Yeah," Karma sighs, silently noting how her bright exaltation is directed at him; made it all worth it. A happy Okuda is a cuter one. "Just making sure. M'not backing out or anything, just so you know."

"Ah, you don't need to worry." Okuda pats his hand. "We're not doing anything dangerous!"

"Too bad. I was thinking of something along the lines of electrocution and coercion."

She laughs along with him. "If it was, I would be violating the contract!" Then she lets his hand go after one final pat and steps away with a smile. "If you don't mind, we'll be starting now."

After this, he's no longer Karma, her friend. He would be Karma, the lab experiment. Granted it's only one experiment, but he couldn't help feeling the shiver of excitement up his spine. His hands relax against the armrests but his body was so hyper-aware he couldn't help fidgeting.

Karma wondered what she made if it made her so unsettled. She said she tried the final product for herself, but the effects had been mild and desaturated as a result of trial and error. What effects had she experienced anyway? Though she'd offered to explain it was his own cheek that said, "Surprise me." So he knew nothing about this project, and he's bound both by bands and contracts as he sat there contemplating why he's under willing captivity by this tiny chemist who says  _please_  at the end of  _Korosensei won't you drink this poison_  because she's polite and courteous as hell.

The reason why is as simple as the answer to 2 plus 2.

"Put them together you have a fish," he mumbles under his breath, eyeing the back of Okuda's head as she stood with a rattling container held against the light. Then she turned and strode towards him; Karma swallowed as his eyes dropped without thinking, following the direction of her billowing skirt—again!—and the lab coat against her skin. He  _really_  liked that lab coat on her.

 _Bad Karma,_ he lamented. It's a bad time to entertain such thoughts. Karma is brought back when she speaks, tone apologetic. "I hope you don't mind the mild peppermint aftertaste."

"Any flavor is better than anything sour and bitter." He stuck his tongue out in distaste.

"Right." She held up the tongs, a bright brown pill that looked like chocolate candy held in between.  _Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought_ , were his musings, peering at her newest creation. "Whenever you're ready."

Looks harmless enough. Karma shrugged and opened his mouth, and then, the candy was dropped into his mouth. And  _oh_ , that is sweet.  _Too sweet_. If it weren't for his sweet tooth, Karma would have blanched. Instead the flavor of it spread through his taste buds, tingling his senses as he bit through the crunchy pill.

"Hey, this is good!" Okuda said nothing, but Karma wasn't paying attention at all—how could he, when her newest experiment tasted this sweet? So sweet, that everything felt tingly. His scalp was prickling, and he sighed. "Maybe you were all worked up for nothing, Okuda-san. Ahaha! And here I thought something extreme would—"

Her hand landed on his arm, and Karma nearly yelped as sensation exploded—and not in the good way. Pins and needles! Pins and needles everywhere her hand was touching! "Oi! W-What the hell was that?" Karma looked at her, and even that was enough to bring another bout of torturous prickling where he moved, and Karma bit hard against his mouth—another bad decision. He let go immediately, trying not to move, biting back what would have been whimpering. "Okuda-san…"

She was flushed and shiny-eyed, her hand drawing slowly away from his prickling arm and Karma bared his teeth as it brought another bout of tingling. Happy Okuda is a cute Okuda but who is this Okuda, who looked entirely too happy that it was unnerving? More importantly, what did she do? There was still a bit of the candy in his mouth, but Karma didn't trust himself enough to try to finish it.

"It's working after all," she murmured to herself, her mouth twitching from a smile. When had she gotten that clipboard? She flipped a couple of pages, and it was torture trying to stay still because _holy hell_  everything was pins. And.  _Needles_. No wonder she had to hold him down from moving so much.  _Thanks, Okuda-san_ , he thought with no little amount of sarcasm, flinching and groaning when his knee bumped against the chair.

Though, it was his idea to be her guinea pig in the first place. _I have only myself to blame, that's it._

"O-ku-da-san," he grumbled, eyes narrowed at her. Even with that look that brought many running for their lives, she remained unaffected, her smile radiant and blinding and through his torment she was so  _cute_  it made it the needles worth it. "What's this…?"

"Parasthesia pills!" She all but gushed. Of course she'd manufacture parasthesia in candy form. As if your body falling asleep and getting one on your own wasn't bad enough! "I wasn't sure if they'd work properly because I took some when I was in the middle of developing them, and I thought maybe I've ingested too much of the trial ingredients to experience the final product's full effects. H-How is it? How do you feel?"

"Like sitting on a waterbed surrounded with needles pressing to my skin." He reiterated, gritting his teeth. "If… If I don't move, the sensations are still there, but they aren't poking me."

Her hand went to his shoulder this time, and Karma yelped and bucked, further agitating the sensations, much to his chagrin. "Oi! Warn me next time! Pins and needles, remember?"

"I'm sorry," she was way too fascinated to sound genuine, and Karma knew he was already forgiving her.  _This is what happens when you get a big, fat, potentially-hazardous crush. And they tell me I'm the dangerous one?_ "It's worse when you're being touched, right?"

"Thousand percent worse," he grits. "H-How long until the effects last?" He's ashamed to hear how his voice cracked. Oh, hell, what he would do to get out of this now.  _Next time_ , Karma thinks,  _next time I should ask what her experiments are_. Or better yet, recruit Terasaka.

Her fingers squeezed his shoulder, and Karma hisses. "Only five minutes." He tried to look at her, and thankfully her hand went away as she leaned over him. Okuda grinned at him, a full-pledged mega-watt smile that brought an all-too different tingling to his face. She clapped her hands together, and said, "Thank you for helping me, Karma-kun! With your help, I can finally give it to Korosensei!"

"No sweat." Even if he was suffering from the effects. No sweat at all. "But will five minutes be enough? What if it has no effect on him at all?"

She hummed, sounding unbothered. "Then I'll just make a new batch and up the dosage."

"What?"

"Two pills for twice the effect. Or more, if need be. And it wouldn't be a problem—Korosensei likes sweets, doesn't he?" The sensation was starting to dull already, but at her words, Karma wasn't quite so sure about the tingle that ran up his spine.

He can't help but get suspicious of her smile again. "Hey."

"Yes?"

"You don't possibly mean I have to try that too, do I?"

"Well, not now." She taps his hand, and though the effects are starting to fade it doesn't mean he was unaffected. Karma still jolts and glares at her. "But Karma-kun will help me again, won't you?"

Karma smiles, cringes, and closes his eyes in some helpless form of resignation. Someday he would have the guts and be her guinea pig forever. Just not now.


	8. Hidden

* * *

Science expertise aside, Manami was good at hiding.

She was light on her feet and small. Slinking into small spaces and making no noise, she would be undiscovered unless one knew how to look. On a normal setting, she was still good at hiding—especially when she really put her mind to it, honing the ability to make her presence easy to overlook. And truthfully, there was little that drove her to go into hiding. An ambush by one or two hostiles she could handle to some extent; a group of five or more against one, um… not really. No matter how well-trained they were, sometimes, running was also a respectable battle tactic.

And Manami didn't cuss. It was unnecessary and simply impolite. But then she lets her guard down crossing that space between two trees and there's movement and suddenly she was on the receiving end of Karma's gun—so, it seemed like a good time to think she was  _screwed_.

There was no running, or hiding against this one. It only further spurred him on to catch prey.

"Manami?" Karma breathed as he lowered the gun, surprised, and it took exactly a second before his mouth curved. " _Manami_ ," he sing-songed by way of greeting as Manami grimaced, paralyzed by her own surprise and the knowledge that this is  _Karma_ , and if she hadn't sensed anyone before this encounter, he must have sensed someone the whole time and took full advantage of it by waiting it out. He wasn't just expecting it to be  _her_.

"You really  _do_  have the worst luck. You've gone and breached enemy territory, love."

Manami jolts. "What?" Had she been so focused on the immediate surroundings that she failed to pay attention to the details? Karma seemed to think the same; he clicked his tongue twice in what sounded like disappointment.

"Oh, what to do with you?" Manami grimaced. She knew that tone, laden with fanfare as it is. She swallowed as she surreptitiously studied the area. Not to underestimate herself, but Manami knew she was a small girl. She wasn't fragile, but to face Karma head on when she was in no level of skill to do so… well.

Karma is her (boy)friend but he is no one's friend in battle.

Still, she kept her guard up and her fists clenched as he neared, his stance deceptively lazy and open. Arms akimbo, but his head raised. She could see no weapons, but Manami knew better than believe he didn't have one on him. He neared until there were only two steps that separated them and held his hand out, smiling a bit too sweetly at her.

When Manami just stared, his eyebrows raised. "Your weapons, please."

Manami considers about bolting, or even shooting him. He was so close… she doubts anyone else from her faction has been this close to him without being in combat. She could try, but he'd probably disarm her a second before she could even move a finger—that was worse. She could try, it didn't mean that she'd like it.

So Manami sighs, hands him her paintball gun and her rubber knife. "I'm out, aren't I?"

"Technically, no. I haven't eliminated you, yet," Karma hums, stowing away her weapons; he makes a show out of it, too, to her mild annoyance. He took out the blue bullets and crushed them under his boot while her knife was hidden to some part of his vest that she couldn't see, grinning the whole while because he knew she wouldn't be able to take them back from him. He uses the time after that to pat her down—a sorry excuse to feel her up. Manami bats his hand away when they got too close to her bottom, giggling despite the inappropriateness of the situation but allows him to squeeze her close and kiss her cheek. "I should eliminate you before anyone else does, though."

"You should," Manami agrees as he noses her cheek. She thinks about her situation, the odds, who she was with. Now her weapons were confiscated, and who knows how far she was in enemy territory?  _But_ , Manami couldn't help wondering,  _if this was enemy territory… where were the others?_  And she also wondered what his delay was. Manami studied him, her eyes narrowed, and thoughtfully pursed her mouth as he looked meaningfully back down at her. "But… you won't…?"

"Let's pretend I'm fair."

"Okay…?"

"You're empty-handed, and I'm not. So that's not fair game anymore."

Oh. Manami's frown deepened, and with her voice small and flat, reminded him, "You took my weapons."

"True." He let her go to cross his arms, pretending to think. "See, I'd take you hostage, but the enemy flag in exchange for a comrade hardly seems equivalent. By all means, the move I want to do isn't legal at all."

"Should I run and pretend I managed to get away from you if my teammates asked?"

All menace and devil-horned, Karma's smirk widened. "If you run, you still have the risk of running into my teammates."

There was a rustle, and Manami was pulled into the bushes before she could even react; the prior rustling covered up the sounds of their own scuffles as Karma yanked their hoods over their heads, and he kept her close, engulfing her smaller frame as he willed the forest greens and shadows to hide them. His hand was big enough to hide the blue band on her sleeve, and Manami vaguely concluded that the staccato of her heartbeat was from the sudden disturbance and the rush of adrenaline as he pushed her face to his shoulder.

"Ya sure he was here? There's nothin'!"

"Uh, I coulda sworn I saw his hair a few minutes ago!" It's Terasaka and Kimura. "Terasaka, man, I swear. I saw him! And there was someone with him, too!"

"Get yer eyes checked, Kimura! With hair like that ya couldn't have possibly missed that bastard!" Against her, Karma stiffened, so Manami curiously peered up at him and found annoyance, accompanied by a touch of insanity clouding his stare as he kept watch of his own teammates.  _Ah, that's not good._  She brushed her fingers on his jaw and kept her gaze steady, even as his gaze swerved back to hers with knife-sharp intensity.

But Manami only whispers  _Breathe_  until she no longer feels the angry rigidness of his body. He's still tense, but only out of necessity, watching and listening as Terasaka and Kimura spoke in furious, low tones that faded as they went another way. Alone again, and Manami couldn't help noticing the way their breathing matched.

Karma's blank expression looked down at her as she blinked at him. "You hid me."

"I hid  _us_ ," he corrected.

"That's illegal. We're enemies."

"And you're still my girl. But maybe I should make you my hostage after all." He leaned into her, and Manami's heart skipped a beat. She knew her blush has shown when he starts to smirk. "Your flag has nothing to do with that, though."

He's looking at her like that again. The way he looked when blood lust was just bubbling along the surface, when a shadow passed over his eyes and a trap ready to spring with his words. An assassin with a purpose.

And if that were the case, why wasn't she doing anything to escape?

Oh, because she didn't want to. That, and she trusted him and Karma handled that trust by burrowing his face to her neck, mouth dangerously close to the pulse on her throat, and Manami covers her mouth with what was left of her strength when he kisses that spot, bites down and sucks. Manami considers feeling through his clothes for her knife. If only she wasn't as distracted.

_Irina-sensei was going to be disappointed._

When he moves away from her neck, Manami lets him lean forward again, obvious restraint in the stiffness of his body that meant something completely different as their mouths brushed. Everyone's first kisses were lost to Irina-sensei, but Karma made her shiver and Manami did a lot of that when his tongue flicked slowly against her mouth until his hands grasped her shoulders to put her at arm's length.

"Hostage," he rasped, pressing a thumb on the bruise on her neck she's sure that's there. "You're mine."

Manami's a bit more glad to note he's just as affected as her. "That's… that's not how that works…"

Karma leaves another kiss bruise, just above the first, and Manami can't stop the tiny noise from leaving her when he does. Her hood slipped as he carded fingers through her ruined braids, pulling her head back as his mouth wandered with every fluttering kiss that mysteriously sapped her strength. She pulled on his collar, just a bit, and swallowing heavily when Karma nipped her ear—an implicit warning,  _just try it._

He's dark-eyed when he pulls back, his skin hot to touch. Karma looks at her with an alacrity she knew too well, except this time he doesn't act on it, doesn't do what he pleases. With a soft sigh against her mouth, Karma stood, taking her with him. His hood slipped and Manami reached up to shield his hair just as he tugged hers back to place. Against the tree she was leaning on, Manami could still feel her knees shake while they struggle to keep upright.

Wrong place, wrong time, Manami thinks. She isn't sure it's for him or for her. Maybe both.

"Manami," he breathes out, golden eyes dark still. "If I run into you again, I'm going in for the kill. So watch out."

Then he's gone. All that's left there of his presence were the marks on her neck, the tangle of her hair, the weakness to her knees, and Manami promising under her breath that she was  _not_  going to get caught as she shoved her hair under her neckline.


	9. Instruction

* * *

Her first attempt to one of his requests involved a wrong compound and an explosion.

It took him by surprise, then disbelief, with a quick dash of panic thinking she'd been hurt— _he_ was hurt, if one could count the dull pain of his bum when he'd toppled off the stool. The smoke had been thick, too, and his eyes had watered so much he couldn't see through the fumes, nose and throat itchy and dry-coughing in the most horrendous way. There were two lessons learned; he should have followed laboratory protocol, and he shouldn't have been playing it cool.

Then there is a hand patting his back; through his watery visage he sees her gloved hand holding a glass of water for him. The window is open, the smoke escaping through it, and he is grateful for both as he chugs the water to soothe his throat. All the while, her hand remains rubbing his back, and stops only when he could speak.

"Sorry." It's hoarse, but he's surprised by how much he meant it. "I should have listened."

"I feel that Akabane-san does not listen to rules very well," she murmurs softly, with a touch of reproach, and the urge to redeem himself to her is curious.

"One might argue I never listen to them at all."

It's only then he notices she's all sooty, but otherwise unharmed. And unfazed. He watches her remove the goggles, holds back the instinctual urge to laugh at the clean imprint it left around her eyes to be polite.

"You have something on your face."

Her face reddens but her eyebrows rise. "Um, s-so do you." She pats her sides, and before he knew it she has her hands on his face, wiping it clean. And Karma does nothing but sit and stare, strangely suddenly self-concious. He wondered how he's let her gotten close in the first place. _I let my guard down._

So he sat, calm but tensed to strike. If she took advantage of this proximity, he would have done everything to wrest the odds back to him. Being one-upped by anyone is not a choice.

Except she doesn't, merely presses her handkerchief to his hands and smiles a little shyly.

"Next time please follow the laboratory's standard safety procedures."


	10. Jawbreaker

* * *

She's had enough training and watched enough fighting to determine that the right hook had hit home. The discombobulating crack of bones breaking and the unwanted visual of seeing how he'd unhinged his opponent's jaw never failed to turn her stomach though, a short moment of nausea that roiled as she averted her eyes. Even though she could still hear the carnage, it was a whole lot better not seeing it—is what she'd wanted to believe.

It's not that it's the first time she's seen him do it.

And it could've been minutes later before she noticed all was silent, no more sounds of bones breaking and angry screaming and mocking—almost frenzied—laughter. Then there're footsteps coming towards her. She looks back in time just to have him wrap an arm around her shoulders tightly, crushing her smaller body to his in a rough, one-armed embrace. Strong as he was, he's not left unscathed; bleeding and bruised in places and his breathing ragged. He's getting blood and grit on her, but it gets easier to wash the it off from her clothes every time.

Twisting in his hold, she took hold of his bruised face, craning his head down by the ridges of his jaw and he willingly tilted his head down to her, eyes alight with a violent sort of intensity that softened at the sight of her. He doesn't smile, his face blank and smooth like glass. She doesn't mind this, but her only regret is that his touch falls away as she inspects the gravity of his beating.

"I'm rusty."

"Shush. You took all five of them by yourself."

"I think I'm getting old. Back in the day five would have been  _nothing_." It's ironic how he winces at her prodding, cautious touches compared to the furious punches he went through when one of them got lucky. She dabs a handkerchief at his split lip, unaware of his perusal. "I don't care for their business with me, but they don't get to mess with you."

Oh, she knows that, too. He's so carefully guarded, so many layers almost like brick walls and sharp-edged words beneath all his whimsy. Hard and tough as hell, but he could be so sweet—a fact she guiltily wants to keep for herself even as he's made it clear that she was the only one with the privilege of having him in whole. He would've beaten up people for anyone he trusted, for her. The proof is here, red stains on his clothes and split lips and bruises and all.

Instead, she nods to say she understands and keeps the thought to herself. For now.


	11. Killer

* * *

"Well, well, look who's here on business."

The words are as smooth as the way their owner slides into the seat across, a little booth against the wall with plush dark velvet and cherry wood table. The untouched glass of sake that lay abandoned on the tabletop was swiped and replaced with something more fruity, and only then does Shiota Nagisa look up. An old friend with sly eyes and body language subtle enough that belied the surety of his caution; he smirks and Nagisa can't help smiling back, however wryly it came out.

"Business can't be done on Continental grounds." Nagisa replies, eyeing his new drink and wondering where the glass of sake went. "You're here, so… you're the same, Karma."

Karma laughs, low and amused. "I'm always doing business. Well, more so, now that I own Tokyo Continental." Nagisa doesn't quite hide his surprise at this.  _I'm more behind than I thought._  It's been seven years since he dropped out of radar, seven years since he's retired and now he's back with a strong dose of reluctance to even pick up a blade. Karma owning the Continental just made the job even harder, and Karma sees his surprise at the information because his smirk broadens. "I see you're still not quite up to date with the latest trends."

Nagisa shrugs. "Seven years is a long time."

"A very long time," Karma agrees, taking a sip out of his own glass. It looked like the one that replaced Nagisa's sake. At least that part of Karma hadn't gone with the passage of time; he still had an aversion to anything remotely resembling alcohol. "I suppose you're not aware I married Manami?"

"Oh, I know that already." He'd gotten an invitation when he had been in Singapore, and when he'd come back three months had already passed. From what he heard, it was a small, private Shinto ceremony held at Karma's ancestral province home with the reception being no other than the Continental penthouse. It was one of his regrets, not being able to come—he would have been the best man. Ryoma took his place instead.

Manami. The woman with no other name but the one she had when Karma cornered her in the alley he'd hidden in after a botched assassination attempt; the yakuza boss he had as his target was already frothing at the mouth when she, a courtesan bought off from a brothel, had slipped poison into the man's brandy and stabbed his fiancée to death when they were found. Karma had been enamored with her immediately. Brought her to Tokyo Continental, ceased to exist in the upper echelons of society and flourished as an underground doctor under the God of Death's tutelage; she also made a good addition to the Continental's more lethal resources with her unnatural expertise with chemistry. She was Karma's favored Continental healer, even as Kotaro was the senior doctor.

The God of Death. Nagisa wondered what happened to him if Karma was now owner of the Continental.

"I know this is too late, but congratulations, by the way. I heard she was expecting."

Karma waved off his apologies, smirking. "Katsu is already five, Nagisa."

"Ah, sorry. I'm still five years behind." Even then, Nagisa shakes his head with wry amusement, carefully stowing every bit of information Karma gave away. He'll pay for them later through appropriate means.

"Enough about me. Tell me, if you don't mind, what job's so drastic to have dragged you back down this alley?"

Karma's stare had always been piercing, cold even. Looking him the eye wasn't something many people could do—doing it was equivalent to deliberately catching a devil's attention, and that could only go down the only way it would: messy. It was an incitement to carnage. Nagisa had participated in that carnage some few times before, when they were younger and brasher and making messy kills. He liked to think that at some point over the continuous shows of rivalry, they'd won each other's respect. That's why he could meet Karma's intense stare head on.

"A marker." A long time ago Nagisa couldn't have been able to meet Karma's eyes while skirting around the truth. Seven years is a long time; while he'd put down guns and knives, it didn't mean he hadn't made himself more armed.

It works. Karma's expression is a little more genuine as he chuckles, tipping his glass back while Nagisa does the same, just slowly.

"Ah, it's one of those." Karma shrugs. "Just as long as you don't do it in here. I'll hate to have you excommunicado with a bounty."

It's his last job; he could care less. He would be banned from the Continental either way, no matter if he did business inside or no. There didn't have to be a bounty even; he would be hunted down personally. The target was, after all, held in the highest of regard like the sanctuary the Continental provided.  _Possibly higher_ , he thought, eyeing Karma as he stood.

"If you'll excuse me," he smiles, his glass mysteriously refilled. On his other hand, light dimmed, a phone. "I'm needed."

"It's good to see you, Karma."

A hand descended on his head, ruffling his hair in a familiar, rough way. Karma grins at him now, but the lump on Nagisa's throat couldn't return it. "See you, Nagisa. Have dinner with me and Manami when the job's done."

Dinner would the first thing Karma would want to do with him when he was ready.

* * *

Some nights later, Manami has her own creation wrecking havoc in her veins. Nagisa left the marker that Yukimura Akari had come to him with on the glass where he'd switched his drink with hers. The yakuza fiancée was her sister.

Manami knew he was coming for her. How she knew, Nagisa could only guess. Rio had connections everywhere and he had to pay for it, but she was loyal to the Continental, and loyalty had a priceless value that money couldn't have.

A door creaks. Nagisa turns, and finds a sight much worse. A diminutive Karma look-alike stood there, hand clenched around a pillow as he looked at Nagisa, then, the prone, cold corpse of his mother.

Nagisa flees, mission complete.

* * *

Some minutes later, there's a bounty for his head. No one knew where to find him.

Some hours pass. He doesn't hear from Yukimura Akari.

* * *

The same day they bury Manami's body six feet under, Rio's eyes were far and wide, and Karma comes for him.


	12. Lecture

* * *

It is 17 days since the explosion. The days that follow are explosion free, but today it goes back to zero, and it's not his fault.

"Well, its intended effect worked well didn't it?" He tries—a poor excuse under her disbelieving slash vaguely accusing eyes. Had it been anyone else Karma would have gauged their eyes out; no one looked at him that way and got away unscathed. He doesn't blame her; he had wanted to try for himself, figuring he's watched her enough and thought he could do it. She was right to be doubtful.

Okuda didn't have much of a spine about anything else but he's quickly coming to realize she's just as ruthless when it came to her field of reign. He respected that.

"Maybe you should just… _not_ touch anything…?" Okuda, obviously unimpressed, is still polite.

Karma laughs, pats away the soot from himself while she does the same thing. _Does she not have a hanky today?_ "I'll just stick to watching. Doing's more your thing on this."

"You poured too much potassium chlorate," she murmurs, fanning away the fumes that remain. They're prepared this time; lab gear in place, the window open, a water thermos sitting not too far away. "Did you measure it?"

He pats away the soot from her hair. "I did."

"…Ah, you used potassium nitrate instead!" She huffs, shoulders hunched as she pouts at him. He's instantly distracted by the outline of soot around her face as she slides off the safety goggles; an idea forms as he half-listens to her scolding. "I told you to read the labels carefully. If you were working with Takebayashi-san, he would've chewed you out!"

"My bad. Is that bad?"

Her cheeks are red now. _Frustrated Okuda is a treat_ , he thinks, still half-tuned in. "Yes!" Her hands were even clenched. The sooty outline on her face moves with her expressions, and he's itching to wipe it away. "T-The whole lab could've been blown up!" _She's cute._

"I'm—I'm what?"

Oh, he said that out loud.

"Nothing." So she's cute. Facts are facts but they don't have to mean anything. Oh, it's suddenly very hot though, and Karma coughs. He yanks his bag from the next counter over, yanks out her (handwashed, carefully pressed and ironed) handkerchief, and yanks her gently over so he could clean her face. He's also perfectly aware she could do it herself. He doesn't care, and digs a hole deeper than what this mini-explosive might do tomorrow as she peered meekly up at him.

Okuda's gaze averts. "I'm ordinary."

" _Ordinary?_ " He repeats the word as if it were foreign. Class 3-E were everything but _ordinary_. Kunugigaoka and the government molded them to be anything but ordinary—there was no turning back now. He looked at her pointedly, his smirk wry at her sheepish smile. " _Sure_. Because being trained assassins and having classes in a remote mountain is normal. Meanwhile, the sky is blue."

Her frow burrows. He brushed away her fringe and dabbed away the remaining patches of soot. All clean now. "Not all the time."

"Of course it isn't. A green sky could be normal for us and weird for everyone else." Karma paused. "I conclude that we're all absolute weirdoes."

She blinks. "So… being open-minded is being a weirdo?" He blinked back at her, and simply shrugged. She wasn't completely off the bat. "Then I'm okay with being our brand of ordinary."

"Ah, then, can I try mixing that stuff again?"

"No, please just watch. You're not every good at reading labels."


End file.
